Boston’s Palehound are set to release their eight-track debut album which quickly follows, hot on the heels of the EP, Bent Nail. The full length debut begins to clarify why Ellen Kempner – brains behind the name; is such a stand out, prodigious child of music. If someone was to give the likes of Patti Smith, PJ Harvey and Kim Deal a run for their money, it has to be this lady. Testament to this fact is the musicianship of Kempner; playing every instrument except drums on each track – this demonstrating that a) she really knows the music she wants to make and b) proving that she has a true, deep-seated passion for this music through the amount of time she has dedicated to practicing each instrument. Recorded with Gabe Wax (Wye Oak, Speedy Ortiz) who has recently shot to some underground glory, Palehound’s assets are produced with the sonic psychedelia that squirms around like some relentless Kevin Parker-shaped mule.

Palehound’s youth spattered, 21-year-old starlet states: "Music was a good way for me to express myself – I had a hard time socially, and it was a way for me to feel like I could contribute something and impress people in some way.” This is evidenced on Dry Food, an album that documents teen angst, witty lyricism and above all, a knowing grin to 90s alt-rock from over the water. Previously released in North America late last year via Exploding In Sound, it has quickly been scooped up in the UK by Heavenly Records – home to The Wytches, King Gizzard and the Lizard Wizard and Temples amongst a bunch of the other underground acts.

Palehound’s début album is a transitional piece taking on twists, turns and unexpected nosedives through stuttered guitar lines and discordant sounds. Kempner talks of her jaded late teen years when much of Dry Food was written – a time plagued with heart ache, heart break and trauma. She meets these touchy topics with grit and wry tongue-in-cheek wit, playing down any melodrama with humour. The honest-to-God lyricism and claustrophobic recording technique essentially exaggerate all elements of teenage drama. Written largely in the intimacy of a bedroom whilst plucking on guitars late at night, the lyrics reflect this, especially in the title track: “You made beauty a monster to me / So I’m kissing all the ugly things I see.” This lyricism largely borrows from Stephen Malkmus circa-Brighten the Corners with its succinct stab at wit and humour.

Album opener ‘Molly’ has an immediate urgency to it, bass and drums pummel through, desperate to get out, they go hand in hand with one another with the speed and darting presence of a greyhound at the races. The guitar fights with the rhythm section in a similar fashion to The Maccabees’ ‘Marks to Prove It’, it is this speed that can often grow tiresome, however, dynamics within the song allow it to never do so whilst maintaining the tempo. It gets trashy towards the end and the fortunate use of female vocals stop it from being a garage-rock calamity, “oohs” and “aahs” keep the melody tight.

‘Healthier Folk’ arguably borrows a melody in too much of a copycat fashion of Pavement’s ‘Transport Is Arranged’, the song by and large walks a very unstable tightrope of chaos and organised erraticism. After listening multiple times, it is still hard to state whether it is well put together or whether it falls into the plain obscurity of mess. This isn’t to say it doesn’t fit, more to question what it shows of Palehound other than she has identified her touchstone influence.

The woozy, drunken feel that holds the likes of ‘Dry Food’, ‘Healthier Folk’ and ‘Easy’ to ransom is born out of 90s bands such as Sebadoh and Folk Implosion, a discontentment with grunge is shown, instead leaning towards sides of folk-rock. This music utterly supports Kempner’s lyricism which washes and wades throughout murks of divergent guitar patterns. Similarly, sultry layers of guitar fold back slightly, allowing for Mac Demarco-fuelled psychedelia to ooze through as if it was the LSD fuelled butterfly pattern breaking through the collapsing cocoon.

See ‘Cinnamon’ as a prime example of this, touching on cornerstones from everything we have learnt about contemporary American psychedelia over the years. The chorus and phased guitar melody pummels through, laying forth an elegant platform for Kempner’s vocals to dance and shimmer upon. Furthermore, how this sets Dry Food away from its contemporaries is the dynamic that it provides the album, it takes folk music and the 90s alt-rock theme that can often grow tiresome and levitates it. Drops in tempo show musicianship much in the vein of Foxygen, leaving vocals to sparsely echo through, drenched head-to-toe in reverb – wrestling with her own vocal chords, her voice sounds elegantly strained and desperate.

The album rarely falters on the whole, it maintains strength throughout allowing for Kempner to find a real grasp of the music she wants to make. ‘Dixie’ shakes slightly at the foot of the album, it adds a nice break but it feels a bit of a filler in comparison to the majority of the album acting as a whimsical folk tribute. Tipping the hat slightly to Joni Mitchell, however the indie-acoustic affair seems a little overshadowed by the seven other album counterparts. ‘Cushioned Caging’ and ‘Sea Konk’ bring squeals of fuzz into play and allow for the tangible link that runs through much of Heavenly’s releases. The squalling guitar in the vein of The Wytches and jumping break downs that take Dinosaur Jr by the scruff of the neck are shown in ‘Cushioned Caging’. ‘Sea Konk’ plays around with whiskey fuelled “dooh doohs” giving the uncanny feeling of swaying around on some Caribbean sea, it takes quite the tropical, Beach Boys guitar line at the start. Tasteful guitar slides allow for the lullaby dream closer.

Palehound’s debut takes teenage existence and personifies it – it is much the replica of many teenage bedroom jams, it just so happens that this one has produced itself as something solid and fantastically determined. Eight tracks was all it needed to be, any longer and it may of grown tiresome, it allows for dynamics to prevail throughout the album, no single song sounds like the former or any other. Being a teenager can suck, however Kempner takes the whole affair and mocks it rather complains about it, it makes you look back on your teenage years without feeling too resentful of the time as here, Kempner has won the battle you wanted to win.
Tom Churchill

Facebook: facebook.com/palehoundsounds/
Twitter: twitter.com/Palehound